


I Like Hearing Your Stories But I've Heard Them All Before

by OwenToDawn



Series: 15 Day Lyric Challenge [7]
Category: Skins (UK)
Genre: Angst, Character Study, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Flirting, Grief/Mourning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-30
Updated: 2019-06-30
Packaged: 2020-05-30 23:48:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19414012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OwenToDawn/pseuds/OwenToDawn
Summary: Effy offers some words of wisdom to someone in a similar position





	I Like Hearing Your Stories But I've Heard Them All Before

**Author's Note:**

> Hey so long story short, something traumatic happened in the middle of this writing series/challenge so I had difficulty returning to it. I'm back now though and I'm going to try to finish this in the same fashion it was supposed to be written. 
> 
> The lyric prompt for today was "You’re saying definitely maybe/I’m saying probably no" from “Nobody Really Cares if You Go to the Party” by Courtney Barnett. Title taken from the same song.

Franky coughs and flails a hand up towards the top of the toilet, hitting the handle to flush it before jerking back and leaning against the bathtub, head thunking back against the ceramic. She grabs her beer and takes a swig to wash out the taste of her vomit before stumbling to her feet.

You’d think finally making it to uni would fix everything. Congratulations, you survived the worst of your teenage years. Here, have access to all the free booze you could ever want to drown your social anxiety and years old guilt. You definitely won’t regret this.

She sees Grace’s face in the mirror. She can hear Mini’s voice asking her what the hell she’s doing. She ignores them both and heads back out to the party, intent on finding a warm body to keep her happy and distracted for just one more night. Just one more fucking night. One more.

-.-

Effy tries not to get involved in people’s shit. Not anymore. She’s escaped that, escaped her friends, escaped her lovers, escaped her family, escaped her brother. She worked hard to undo all the damage they left behind. But when a thin scrap of a woman stumbles out of the bathroom and runs right into her and she finds herself stunned as she looks into her eyes. It’s like seeing her own reflection.

They look nothing alike. She still hasn’t outgrown her black fishnets and lace phase, at least not when she goes out to a club, and the woman in front of her looks almost like a doll, not a hair out of place and her slinky, shimmery gold top matching perfectly with her eye shadow. But it looks all wrong. Cute and dainty, but eyes of steel.

“You’ll do,” the woman says. “Ever been with a girl?”

Effy grabs her wrist before she finish reaching her hand up to touch her face. “You’re drunk.”

The woman yanks her wrist away, but Effy doesn’t resist so the extra momentum sends her stumbling backwards into the wall. “I’ll find someone else.”

Effy moves to block her from leaving the hallway without thinking, hating the tight feeling in her chest. “How about I get you home instead?”

“Oh I see how it is,” the woman says. “Come on then.”

-.-

Franky wakes up with her mouth tasting foul. That’s not particularly new. What is new is the bed being empty next to her because usually she wakes up before whoever she’d taken to bed the night before. What’s even newer is the sound of someone cursing three feet away in the small kitchen space. She sits up, squinting at the figure in her kitchen.

Whoever she is, she’s pretty even with ripped fishnet stockings and eyeliner smudged into raccoon circles around her eyes. Her red lipstick is smeared onto the pale white of her cheek, but he can’t feel any on his own lips so he has a feeling it wasn’t from anything they’d done, especially since all his clothes are still on.

“Uh, hi,” he says.

“Good morning,” the woman says. “I’m Effy. And you’re Franky, if your ID is accurate.”

“Right, I don’t remember much of last night,” Franky says. She wiggles his way to the end of the bed, wincing at how her head aches from the motion.

“We didn’t sleep together,” Effy says. “I was going to order take out but nowhere was open. You have some spare clothes I can borrow so we can go get breakfast somewhere?”

Franky blinks. “This is the weirdest not-morning-after ever.”

Effy shrugs and sips her tea. “Is that a yes?”

“Sure, why not.”

-.-

Effy pulls her lemon bar out of the café wrapper and takes a bite while looking out over the bay. Franky sits beside her sipping her coffee. The water laps the dock. It’s still too early for the area to be full of tourists, so for now, it’s quiet.

“Why didn’t you sleep with me?” Franky asks.

“I don’t sleep with drunk people,” Effy says. “You weren’t in any headspace to consent.”

“Huh. No one’s ever given me the courtesy,” Franky says.

“Yeah, I know the feeling. Most people are shit,” Effy says.

Silence reigns again. Effy isn’t sure what it is that draws her to Franky. Kindred spirits or something.

“Would it be weird if I spilled my guts to you?” Franky asks.

“Nah,” Effy says. She looks over at Franky and offers a smile, a real one too. “I kinda feel like doing the same.”

“I feel like I fucked everything up too early and now I’m just waiting for someone to put me out of my misery,” Franky says.

Effy nods as she chews. “Took me awhile to get out of that funk. You spend your whole life burning yourself down from both ends taking care of other people, you have no clue how to take care of yourself. You burn out.”

“How did you fix it?”

“I found someone who gave me the space to recover,” Effy says.

When she looks back, she sees Franky staring down at her coffee.

“I don’t have anyone like. The one person who could’ve helped she…I got her killed,” Franky says.

The words shake loose the memories of Freddie that she’d neatly packed away. It doesn’t hurt now to look at them. The sting and ache of them, the _guilt_ feels distance.

“That will go away,” Effy says. “And you can’t blame yourself for things like that forever.”

Franky lets out a bitter laugh. “What would you know about it?”

“I got my best friend killed. I know,” Effy says.

“Man, we are way too similar,” Franky says with a shake of her head. 

Effy nudges her arm. “That’s alright. Just means we were meant to meet.”

-.-

Franky mulls over Effy’s words as she watches Effy fold up her clothes and place them in one of her shopping totes. She thinks Effy looks even better without make up and dressed in Franky’s clothes.

“I can see you eyeing me. You want to ask me to fuck again?” Effy asks. There’s a sly smile on her lips and a coy look in her eyes that makes Franky’s heart pound.

“Would you say yes?” Franky asks.

“Ask me again when I return your bag and clothes,” Effy says. She heads to the door and jams her feet haphazardly into her boots. “And remember. You don’t have to take care of anyone. Just yourself. You deserve some peace.”

Franky swallows around the lump in her throat. From anyone else, the words would feel cheap. Cliché even. But the sincerity in Effy’s eyes, her voice, there’s no way such a thing could be faked.

“Thanks,” she chokes out.”

Effy smiles. “I’ll see you.”

“See you.”


End file.
